A little humour

I don't normally endorse (anti-)viola jokes, but this latest, by the violinst Simon Hewitt Jones, gets a giggle and a thumbs up!

Q: Why don’t violists make good policemen (or women)?

A: They can’t stay on the beat!

Thoughts on stations

8am St Pancras. A burst of sky blue. The roof arches strain from their earthings, trying to merge with the true sky above. Small suitcases on wheels roll smoothly across dark brown wooden floors in this unexpected haven.
12 noon Gare du Nord. Golden globe-shaped street lamps line the platforms, and set this Parisian scene. Rows of trains lie dormant - no last minute train panic here. Pigeons hunting for scraps, clustering in grimy corners, make the space under the shed-like roof no different from outside.
7pm Paddington. Tableaux vivantes around the station - the people watching departure boards like hawks - spring into life when the last-minute platform announcement is made. Like a huge flock of birds falling on a single crumb of food, they head to the ticket barriers, desperate to get there first.
9.30pm Bristol Temple Meads. Brunel's echoing train shed, where choirs of announcers apologise for the late arrival of trains from Weston-super-Mare, London, Cardiff in polyphonic chorus.

Images of Bristol

Before the bridge, and above the Giant's Cave, sits one of Bristol's quirkiest and most intriguing attractions. The camera obscura. Installed in 1828 by William West in a former mill, this magical device allows you to view the surrounding world in stunning detail. People happily stroll across the grass. Seagulls wing their way across the sky, and cars cross from one side of the gorge to the other. The mud flats at low tide ooze: you can almost hear the squelches as the brown mud breathes. And all this captured in a darkened circular room, this miniature version of Sunday afternoon in Bristol.